It's, ahem, Complicated
by Astrea Von Hurston
Summary: RLHG. In an attempt to help the trio without them knowing find the Horcruxes, the Order sends Lupin to get information of their progess from Hermione. But he finds himself deterred along the way. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

Alas, the winter was dreary, mounds of snow hid what used to be small gardens of flourishing flowers. The lake was either fatally cold, or frozen over, but not thick enough for ice skating or anything of the fun sort. Any movement in the white scenery was a mysterious figure bundled from head to toe in brown or black. The gloomy willows or tall pines laid under a thin layer of white frost, the cold season hung icicles on the roof of the nearby hut, and every breathing body on those grounds, besides the man of the hut, was crowded inside the massive castle, biding their time and waiting for the end of winter, for spring would come, flowers would bloom, and the lands would be roamable, once more.

Before the sun could rise on the far horizon, and wake the slumbering students inside the castle, a young woman with masses of curly light brown hair sat in her dormitory, lightly freckled and white skin glowing from the reflection of the purple and orange sky against the snow. A heavy book sat in her lap, small sock clad feet dangled over the side of her four-poster bed and a small frown of concentration settled over her soft but smart features. Her high intellectual forehead, small pointed nose and dark chestnut eyes set her apart from the other girls in a fairly decent way.

Licking her lips and gathering her hair into a bun as she read, she was unware of the owl perched at the closed window nearby. It wasn't until the pecking had become dangerously sharp and one of the girls in the dorm groaned for someone to "shut up", did she notice and run to the window. She lifted it, sending a frightfully cold wind, some snow and the owl into the room, then immediately shut it tightly. She subconsciously bundled herself up more in her robe and headed toward the bird that sat on her bed, looking up at her with big, round, amber eyes.

"If you have a message, show me already," she demanded, voice sharp in tone, but soft in pitch, adding to the enigma of her.

The owl obliged, holding out a small leg with a letter attached to it by string. She recognized the handwriting, but was curious, for it wasn't often that she received letters from this man.

She opened the note hesitantly, smoothing out the wrinkled surface before reading:

_Hermione,_

_I am happy that you, Harry and Ron had made the last minute decision to attend Hogwarts, once more (though I know it was under your pressure, of course). I hope you would not mind sharing a cup of tea with me when I come to visit Hogwarts, for I know that Hogsmeade is no longer an option, and we may discuss a few important matters, mostly concerining Harry. Please, do not let the boys kinow about this, I just want your input. And, do not think you are being used to spy on your friends, because you're not, but the Order is interested in any progress made._

_I will meet you in the Entrance Hall at 6 o'clock in the morning on the twenty-fourth of December. Once again, tell no one._

_Have a pleasant winter break. I expect your reply._

_Remus_

Hermione fell back on her bed, almost flattening the owl, who managed to escape in time, letter grasped in her limp hand and eyes staring up at the cold ceiling.

Despite what he had said, she did feel like she was being asked to spy. And she knew it came from the best intentions, but Harry and Ron were grown men now, they didn't need Molly Weasley and the rest of the Order looking over their shoulders anymore.

And this... well, this only added to the already expanding girth on her shoulders, that weighed her down everyday as she walked to classes, studied and planned the next quest with Ron and Harry.

"Crookshanks," she called softly, her empty hand held out, waiting for the familiar lick of her beloved feline. When it came, she turned over with a groan, picked up the cat and placed him on her stomach, lightly stroking the orange fur.

"Crookshanks," she repeated, long fingers playing with the the cat's twitching ears, "do I keep it a secret?"

Crookshanks meowed obnoxiously, eyes roving over the room before landing on her.

"Hmm," Hermione sighed, raising her eyes back to the ceiling and thinking over what she would do.

It wasn't long until a shout came from below, waking the two other girls in the dornitory and causing the owl's flight out an open window before Hermione could send her reply. She groaned at the shouting that grew into a constant barking, rubbing her temple, grabbing her robe and heading out before she could be scolded by her roommates.

"Hermione!" Ron called again, with Harry beside him, as they stood at the foot of the staircase to the girls' dormitories.

"Yes, Ron?" Hermione groaned, exiting through one of the doors with a perturbed look on her face.

"Are you going with us to Hagrid's?" Harry asked, hands shyly in his pockets.

"Yes, let me just grab a sweater," Hermione replied before turning and heading back into the room. After much noice she emerged with a Weasley sweater on and a scarf. "Let's go."

The boys scrambled out of the portrait hole as she followed them seriously, busy wrapping her scarf around her neck. The chill of the season appeared to have made it through the cracks and holes in the stones that made up the castle, while some windows had been stupidly left open. The trio walked, huddled together, down many staircases until they reached the Entrance Hall, where they exited through the large mahogany doors.

A sudden rush of wind caught them as soon as they were outside, their feet crunching in the soft snow on the steps below them, and Hermione gave a startled shiver from the sudden freezing temperature.

"It's unbelievable out here," she said through chattering teeth, folding her arms across her chest, for once thankful for the mass of hair on her head.

"Probably below zero celsius," Harry muttered, zipping up his sweater (A/N: Muggle wear on the weekends, yes.).

"Let's go, guys. It isn't going to get any warmer," Ron replied, setting off throw the snow with Harry and Hermione right behind him.

The three were grateful for the fires Hagrid always had crackling in his hearth, and especially on the coldest day of the season as they all came burstring through his door, bringing some snow in with them.

"It's bloody freezing out there," Ron gasped, making his way immediately to the fire and taking off his gloves to warm his hands.

Hermione, who had forgotten gloves, grabbed his to put on as she went over to Hagrid to give him a friendly hug.

"Nice to see all o' yeh," he grunted, returning the embrace before going over to his cupboard and grabbing a few mugs. "'Ow about some tea?"

"Sounds great, Hagrid," Harry returned, smiling as he took a seat.

Hagrid appeared to have gotten better, he wasn't going to be the same happy half-giant they once knew, but he had made progress since Dumbledore's death. They had all made progress, and Hermione believed this had made Harry stronger, teaching him to be more independent, sense Dumbledore wasn't there anymore to come to his rescue.

"Yeah, tea sounds brilliant, Hagrid," Ron piped in from the fireplace.

Hermione nodded, as well.

"Great," Hagrid mumbled and began bustling about, pouring the water that had already been heated, and placing the tea bags in carefully.

"What have you been up to, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, stirring her tea and ignoring the loud clinking of her spoon against the inside of the cup.

"Just dealing with things, the usual," Hagrid said quietly, taking a sip from his own pre-prepared drink.

"What day is it?" Ron called from the hearth, interrupting Hagrid and Hermione's conversation, as he rubbed his hands together.

"Nearly Christmas," Hagrid grunted, returning to his cupboards and trying to look as if he was searching for something again.

Hermione frowned sadly at her friend, not hesitating to throw a dirty look in Ron's direction.

"Two more days," Harry agreed with a half-hearted grin.

Hermione, suddenly realizing that that meant she would have to meet with Lupin the very next day, did not notice that she was holding her mug a litte too tight, only until it was a little too late. She gasped when she heard a crack split the side.

"I'm so sorry, Hagrid!" she said immediately, before he could comprehend what she was apologizing for, and began murmuring to herself, attempting to remember a repair charm.

"Don' worry 'bout it, 'Mione," Hagrid assured her, taking the mug and setting it in the sink. "That was one o' the bad ones, they lose strength with'n months."

"I'm still very sorry," Hermione mumbled, glancing at the sink continuously, as Harry smiled sympathetically at her.

"Are you going to the Christmas feast, Hagrid?" Harry queried, trying to pay no attention to the large dog drooling lazily on his robes.

"I don' think so, Harry," Hagrid replied, taking his seat, once more, "it just ain't the same without Dumbledore."

Harry nodded, clearing his throat awkwardly. Then, as a second thought, he stood and stepped around the table next to Hagrid.

Surprising everybody in the room, he leaned over (though he didn't have to lean much) and embraced Hagrid like a boy would embrace his grieving father.

"I miss him, too, Hagrid," Harry said quietly, "but I know Dumbledore wouldn't want you feeling like this."

"Yeh're righ', Harry," Hagrid grunted as Harry pulled away, nodding to himself. "Thank yeh, it was nice of yeh all to visit, but I got some blast-ended skrewts to feed."

Hermione and Ron flinched, as if the dreaded creatures were in the small house, in an open crate nearby (though it wouldn't be surprising if they were).

"See you on Christmas then, Hagrid?" Harry asked as him, Ron and Hermione were stepping out.

"Yep," Hagrid said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in the first smile the trio had seen in some time, and he followed them out, waving goodbye as they headed back up to the castle.

"That was really nice of you, Harry," Hermione murmured after they had entered through the doors and were walking up the steps to Gryffindor tower.

"I think we both sort of needed it," Harry returned quietly, and he smiled at both of his friends with relieved eyes.

Ron pat Harry on the back, smiling, as well.

"Well, I, for one, cannot wait until the big feast they'll have for us in two days," he said.

Hermione and Harry laughed at this, shaking their head at the tall, lean man who could hold way too much than natural.

"You know what? I think I'm going to head over to the Owlery, I have a letter to send," Hermione said all of a sudden.

"Do you have parchment and ink? Because I keep a small little storage of them in a secret place," Ron suggested, scratching the back of his neck modestly. "I mean, I usually forget little things like that."

"Thanks, Ron. Where is it?"

"Near the entrance, behind a loose stone. It'll be easy to find," Ron explained.

"Thanks, I'll see you guys in a bit," Hermione said, and headed back down the steps as they waved to her, before they continued up.

When Hermione reached the Owlery, it was warmer out and the sun was no longer hidden behind the gray clouds that had replaced blue skies of earlier months. She breathed in deeply, before exhaling softly as she entered, feeling better now that the weather had calmed her. Suddenly assaulted by the horrid smells of dead mice and bird feces, though, she ducked her head and plugged her nose as she attempted to find an owl that looked strong enough to endure the blizzards ahead.

"You will do," she murmured, stroking the head of a tan owl that hooted in approval of her touch. She looked around the Owlery, toward the entrance and saw what she was looking for. It was rtaher obvious that the brick was loose, but less obvious because no one could have suspected anything would be placed there. She dug out a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink, and began her reply to Remus Lupin:

_Dear Professor Lupin _(this was scribbled and crossed out, and instead she put) _Remus,_

_I received your word early this morning. I did not tell Harry or Ron about the meeting, but I am replying to tell you that I can meet you where you have requested._

_Hermione_

She knew the letter was quite impersonal, but with the way she felt about how Lupin was allowing the adults to interfere with Harry's fine work, she couldn't write anything to him that suggested they were friends, she felt too betrayed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Hermione groaned, turning over as she hit the obnoxious alarm clock (which she had gotten from Ron for her birthday), and shut it off. She sat up, glancing out the window to see that it was still dark outside, and she yawned sleepily. Stretching her arms, she climbed out from under the many blankets that were piled on her bed and began looking through her trunk for something to wear, she was unsure whether they would be going outside or staying in the castle.

After she had showered, tied her hair back in a loose bun, dressed and played with her hair a bit more, she headed quietly down to the common room, hoping no one was awake to question her.

She had gotten lucky. Hermione crept out the portrait hole and immediately headed down to the entrance hall, footsteps echoing off the stone walls of the nearly empty castle, the candlelight playing on her features, making her round chestnut eyes glow amber.

When she had reached the last landing before the Entrance Hall, she wasn't suprised to see Lupin's hunched over figure on the bottom step to Gryffindor tower, his light brown, gray-streaked hair had fallen in his face as he fiddled with a thread that had come loose on his old robes. She felt a surge of sympathy, but managed to push it away as she stepped down behind him silently.

He continued to play with the thread, and she took a deep breath before clearing her throat. This was followed by an immediate shudder on her part, remembering Umbridge for a moment, as Lupin regained himself, turning back to look at her in surprise.

"You're early," he murmured stupidly. He was staring at her in an odd way, and she self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"As are you," she replied, heading down the remaining steps, and stood ahead of him, with her hands on her hips.

"Thought I'd just sit here until you came, remembering everything," he said, smiling.

She almost smiled in return, but stopped herself, remembering that she was angry at him for what he seemed to be pushing her to do.

"Come," Lupin said, standing up and motioning toward a nearby corridor, "Professor McGonagall knew I was visiting, and reserved a classroom for us to have our breakfast. She thought we would need privacy for such business."

Hermione merely nodded, following him as he headed down the dark hall, counting the doors on his left, before he nodded to himself and entered through a door that looked as if it had not been used in decades. Hermione trailed after him, and found herself surprised to see that it was lit brilliantly, with a small table in the center of the room. A yellow rose had been placed in a vase in the middle of the table, along with two plates and goblets. Off to the side was a table filled with what could be found to eat in the Great Hall at breakfast, set up almost like a buffet.

It wasn't until the sweet smells had reached Hermione's nose that she realized just how hungry she was, and she immediately filled her plate, Lupin chuckling as he filled his own.

After they had been seated and had enjoyed quite a grand portion of food, Lupin spoke up, leaning his arm on the table and looking at her seriously.

"Now, you know why I asked to meet you here this morning," he began, flicking a stray hair out of his face with his other hand.

"Yes," Hermione replied simply, then took a sip from her pumpkin juice.

Clearly uncomfortable with Hermione's much less than enthusiastic attitude, he shifted in his seat and continued, "I know you, Harry and Ron have been out on the off chances, searching for..."

He paused, mid-sentence, before taking his wand out, warding the door and putting a silencing charm on the room.

"-Horcruxes," he finished quietly.

"Yes, we have," Hermione returned.

"How has it been going?" he asked, his face full of concern and worry.

She lifted her goblet to take another drink, when he suddenly reached across the table, knocking over the vase (which magically set itself upright), and grabbed her wrist, looking at her hand in shock. Hermione could have sworn her heart stopped at the contact.

"What happened?" he exclaimed frantically, slowly taking his other hand to touch the huge scar on the back of her hand.

"An incident, Professor," she replied, removing her hand from his grasp and taking the sip she had been meaning to.

"Please, call me Remus, Hermione," he said quickly, as habit, then continued, "but is it not going well? Are you sure you three don't need us? Tonks or Moody or even I could accompany you."

"Remus," Hermione said, standing, her chair scraping along the floor in protest, "we have told you all, continuously, that we do not need help. It's a bruise, a small bruise from getting cut by a sword of some sort. It was hard enough for Harry having us risk our lives for him, he doesn't need more on his shoulders. And the fact that the Order cannot trust us enough and that you would actually have me play the spy, I am shocked. I am especially shocked that you would try and trick me, as well."

The last sentence was said quietly, and she sat back down, suddenly finding her lap quite fascinating.

"Hermione, I had no idea you all felt this way," Lupin said quietly, after a few moments of silence. "I apologize if you feel that we are imposing. But we are worried that you are all handling this by yourself, when you are all barely of age."

"We have handled quite larger tasks than these, Remus," Hermione murmured.

"Yes. Yes, you have."

They sat in silence, once again, staring at their plates that gleamed back at them.

Hermione suddenly stood, pushing her chair in silently as she headed to the door, arms folded across her stomach. Remus followed immediately, putting his hand on the doorknob just as she had. The frantic beating of her heart began again at the contact, but she ignored it.

"Hermione, I hope you can forgive me," he murmured, looking down into her large brown eyes, their faces only inches apart.

She breathed in deeply, before looking back down and turning the knob to open the door.

"I have to meet up with Harry and Ron, they could be worried," Hermione replied, then disappeared into the dark corridor, leaving Lupin motionless at the door.

He sighed and took a seat at the table, staring at her empty seat, before shaking his head and whispering to himself, "What have you done?"

After climbing the stairs, two at a time, Hermione arrived panting and sweating outside the Gryffindor common room. If she arrived too late, Harry and Ron would ask questions, and she didn't want to have to bring them into this, as well. Smoothing her brown mass of curls down, she stepped in through the portrait and was pleasantly surprised to find the common room still empty.

"Bloody hell," she sighed, plopping down on an armchair near the fire and kicking off shoes, her feet were in too much pain to care about being very ladylike, and it wasn't like she was much of a lady anyway.

"Hermione?" the sleepy voice of Harry sounded from the bottom of the staircase to the boys' dormitories.

Hermione turned around to see him in sweatpants and a Chudley Cannon's shirt, scratching his head and making his hair an even bigger mess than it was. She smiled affectionately at her best friend, folding her legs under her bottom as she pat the seat beside her.

He didn't hesitate to sit down, falling back into the chair with a great sigh. She watched him as he got comfortable before he began to rub his temple in thought.

"Is something wrong?" she asked in concern.

"No, it's hurting again," he muttered vaguely, but she knew exactly what he meant.

"Is it serious, like when he was near you?" she inquired, taking on a more panicked tone.

"No, just the usual dull pain, like he's up to something."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he shrugged, playing with the hem of his shirt nervously, "it still has me a bit worried. They're constant now, I think I'm starting to get used to it. Do you think he's got an idea of what we're doing?"

"Of course not," Hermione assured him, though she didn't believe it herself.

"Sure, I mean even the Order hasn't really caught on to all we're doing. Not that I don't want them to, but I'm glad that they're letting us go at it alone anyhow," Harry said.

"Yes," Hermione replied quietly, feeling guilty as she looked at Harry who appeared distracted by a loose thread.

"Find any clues?" Harry suddenly asked, looking up at her hopefully.

She shook her head sadly, and he looked back down.

"I'm sorry I haven't been much help," he told her quietly.

"Yes, you have. You and Ron have been loads of help," she replied earnestly.

"I've just been really busy, McGonagall's been asking me up to her office loads of times. She's trying to help us, but I told her it's best if we do it on our own. I mean, I can't have the Order kill Voldemort while I just sit around, sucking my thumb."

Hermione nodded, agreeing completely with this statement. Harry had learned to be more independent, which was quite a feat, as Dumbledore and the others had been a crutch, and the Headmaster's death turned out to almost be more of a blessing than a curse.

"Harry, don't worry too much," Hermione sighed, patting his knee, "besides, that's my job."

He smiled halfheartedly, leaning his head back and gazing up at the ceiling, and he said, "I have so many questions running through my head, and not one that I can answer."

"I know how you feel," she assured him.

"Yeah, but... why did it have to be me?" The tone of his voice lacked the angst of fifth year, there was something more sorrowful and sweet in its depths that induced feelings of heartache in Hermione.

"I don't know, Harry, I suppose... we were all put here by Fate to do something," she paused a moment, "but I know that Ron and I were put here, as well, to help you."

She smiled softly at him and he returned it with gratitude.

"Ron should wake up soon," Hermione noted after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Right, let's give him an _unexpected_ wake up call," Harry replied, grinning.


End file.
